Z She'd Been Drinking Too Much Eggnog Complete
by Fanatical Writer
Summary: After too much to drink at the bureau's annual Christmas party, Emily Prentiss wakes up in Hotch's bed, much to her surprise...but not his!
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.**

**This is a gift written especially for _DESTINYISMS_ and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used. **

**I hope you enjoy it…and thanks so much for reading! -Angie**

"I'm thinking that I should have kept this professional," Emily said, her speech slightly slurred.

"They rented a hall," Reid commented. "I think they want us to forget about being professionals."

"That's the government for ya," Morgan remarked as he took a generous sip from his own plastic cup. "They're _always_ playing by their own rules."

"Thank _God_," Penelope said, "or we'd have been separated _eons_ ago."

Derek looked at his new wife and grinned. "Darlin', nothing could separate _us_," he said with his usual charm.

Penelope grinned back at her husband, her expression saddening when she looked at the entrance to the building. She was so glad that Hotch was at least making an effort this year and coming to the Christmas party, even if he was wearing his serious look. "Do you think he's even been on a date since Haley passed away?" she asked softly.

Derek gave his wife a stern glare. "No match-making, Baby Girl," he said firmly.

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence. "When have I _ever_ tried to 'matchmake' anyone?" she asked.

"Are you kidding?" Rossi asked.

Penelope winced. "Ok, so setting you up with my Aunt Daisy wasn't my _best_ idea ever, but you were lonely!" she said, defending herself.

Rossi's amusement was written all over his face. "I promise you, Kitten, I have never been lonely a day in my life."

Penelope giggled as she did every time he called her 'Kitten.' She was in love with her husband, but it was no secret that she had a schoolgirl crush on Rossi. The team teased her about it endlessly, Derek included. It was a good thing her husband had a healthy ego. "But look at Hotch! He looks so lonely," she insisted.

Emily tilted her head to the side, studying her boss' swagger as he headed towards the table to join his team. Maybe it was the fact that she'd been without a man for too long, or maybe it was the fact that she was wearing 'spiked eggnog colored glasses,' but she suddenly found her Unit Chief insanely attractive. _Yep, _Emily Prentiss thought. _**Definitely**__ time to stop drinking._

And that was the last thing she remembered.

* * *

_What is that incessant ringing? _Emily thought the next morning as she tried to lift her head off the pillow. Too late she realized it wasn't a good idea. The Carol of the Bells blaring from the radio alarm wasn't the _only _thing making her head throb. She groaned in agony…and then froze. What the…? Her legs were tangled…and had they been tangled in sheets _that_ would have been one thing. But they were tangled with another pair of legs. A pair of legs that had a light sprinkle of soft hair on them. _Men's_ legs.

Emily realized then that she had absolutely no idea where she was and fear gripped her. How had this happened? She'd been with her team last night, for God's sake! And they'd let her…_what_? Go home with another agent in the bureau? That had to have been it. They wouldn't have just let her go home with a total stranger! Oh, my God! She'd had her first one night stand, and she couldn't even remember it!

She gave her thighs a light squeeze…_nothing_. Hmmm…he obviously hadn't been rough. She stretched a teensy bit, and aside from the 'every muscle in my body aches because I had too much to drink last night' ache, nothing. Well, maybe she hadn't missed much after all.

She decided to take the bull by the horns and slowly freed her legs, then started to roll over. It was then that she caught the scent of familiar cologne. Emily Prentiss' heart began beating in her chest so loudly that she was certain her bedmate must be able to hear it. She swallowed past the uneasiness in her throat and rolled over…coming face to face with her unit chief.

"Mornin', Prentiss," Hotch said sleepily, his eyelids fluttering open just long enough to say the words.

Emily flew up into a sitting position, her hangover all but forgotten. "Wha...oh, God…wha…?" She sputtered as she gasped for air.


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This story is a gift for DESTINYISMS in response to the CCOAC Christmas Fic Exchange Challenge, but I hope you all enjoy it! The following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used.**

**Thank you so much to all of you who took the time to review the last chapter! It's much appreciated! I hope you enjoy this one! - Angie**

"Breathe," Hotch said calmly, as he sat up.

Emily nodded awkwardly and focused on her breathing, bracing her knuckles on the bed so she could move as far away from her boss as possible. When she finally caught her breath, she spoke again…as ineloquent as it was. "Oh, God…did we…did you and I…did…_a little help here, Hotch!" _she said frantically. She was completely out of her element; this was somewhere she'd never been…the participant of a one night stand, her boss' plaything…her composure completely deserted her, replaced instead with the unfamiliar feeling of anxiety.

Hotch sat up and studied her face for a moment. Emily flinched when he moved, leaning in so close to her that that their noses almost touched. "Emily," Hotch said in a low voice. "When you and I finally _do_, the _one_ thing you can count on…is that you _won't_ have to ask me about it."

Emily's breathing increased again, and she practically jumped out of the bed. Too late she realized she was wearing a t-shirt that had to belong to him, her panties, and one other item she'd put on last night before leaving her house. His eyes fell to her right thigh; she looked down and immediately felt herself start to blush.

"I was wondering about _that_," Hotch admitted.

"I…I…" Her fingers curled around the hem of his t-shirt and she tugged it down; it really had to be the shortest t-shirt on the planet. "Could you please leave so that I could get dressed?" she asked, the words coming out in a rush.

"Sure," Hotch said, climbing out of bed. Emily nearly winced. He was wearing nothing but his boxers, and the muscles in his back bunched when he used his arms to push himself up off the mattress. How had she never noticed that raw sex appeal before? It was practically radiating off of him. Her eyes followed him as he headed for the door, and as soon as he shut it behind himself, she scurried around the room, collecting her clothing.

She put her bra on and hooked it in the front—_sweet Lord, please don't let him have had to put me in his t-shirt last night—_then pulled on her charcoal gray shirt; it had ¾ sleeves and she'd worn it because it had made her feel feminine. After stepping into the black pencil skirt she'd worn last night and fastening her matching strappy sandals, she grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand and headed for the bedroom door. She took a deep breath, then opened it enough so she could peek her head out.

She looked both ways, and then jumped when she heard Hotch's amused voice. "What are you doing?" he asked.

She looked back the other way to where he'd suddenly appeared, and then, straightening, she walked out of his bedroom. "I'm trying to sneak out without Jack seeing me," she said in a low voice.

Hotch lifted a brow, clearly enjoying her predicament. "Jack spent last night at his Aunt Jessica's," he informed her.

"Oh," she said in relief. "Great. Well, then…have a great...rest of the weekend." She practically sprinted for the front door.

"Emily?" Hotch asked from behind her.

She spun around with a wince. "Yes?"

Hotch cleared his throat. "How are you going to get home?"

"I'm going to call a taxi," she told him.

"You can call from up here," he said.

"That's OK. I think I'd actually prefer to wait in the lobby," she said, opening the front door and leaving before he could say anything else.

* * *

Emily had to force herself not to groan as she climbed into her bed. Luckily the taxi had arrived within minutes of receiving her call, and she'd been home not long after that. The drive hadn't been long enough for her humiliation to dissolve. She had no idea how she was going to face him Monday morning. Her eyelids had just fluttered closed when her phone started to ring. The tone indicated that it was Penelope, and if Emily didn't answer, her friend would just keep calling back until she did. She sighed and snagged her phone from the nightstand. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Sunshine," came Penelope's cheerful voice from the other end of the phone.

"Good morning," Emily practically growled.

"You had a rough night last night," Penelope continued.

"Yes," Emily agreed. "Yes, I did."

"Are you still up for brunch and holiday shopping?"

"You are way too chipper for…" she looked at the clock. "Nine o'clock in the morning."

Penelope giggled. "Emily Prentiss, if you woke up next to Derek Morgan every morning, you'd be chipper, too."

"Ewww…" Emily said as she threw the covers back and sat up. She held back a wince; her head was still throbbing. "I'll meet you in an hour."

"See you then."

* * *

Exactly an hour later, Emily stalked through the restaurant towards the table where her two 'friends' were lost in conversation. They both looked up in surprise when she slammed her bag down onto the table.

"Good morning, Emily," JJ said carefully.

"Good morning?" she hissed. "Is that all you have to say to me?"

Penelope cleared her throat and glanced at JJ before turning back to Emily. "Sweetie…what else would we have to say to you?"

"You could explain to me why in the _hell_ you let me go home with _Hotch_ last night!" she informed them angrily as she plopped down into the chair.

Both of her friends froze, a shocked expression on each face.

"You went home with Hotch last night?" JJ asked in astonishment.

"Wha…" Her faze flew from one woman to the other. "You…you didn't know?"

"Do these _look_ like the faces of two people who are in the know?" came Penelope's shrill voice.

"You really had no idea?" Emily asked with a grimace.

JJ moved forward in her chair so she was on the edge of her seat. "You _slept_ with Hotch?" she asked, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Good morning," a young waitress said as she approached the table.

"Come back in ten minutes," Penelope said abruptly.

"No, I did _not_ sleep with Hotch," Emily insisted when the woman was gone.

JJ sighed. "_That _figures. You _would _go home with him and not sleep with him."

"How did I not see this coming?" Penelope asked in wonderment. "My instincts are usually ten steps ahead of everyone else's and I had _no_ idea!"

"Right," Emily said dryly. "Because _that's _what's important here."

"What did his bedroom look like?" JJ asked.

"I don't know! I got out of there as fast as I could!" she told her friends. Both girls glared at her, and she sighed in resignation. "Dark blue walls, camel colored down comforter with matching shams and mahogany furniture."

Penelope nodded approvingly. "Sounds like Hotch."

"You don't get to talk!" Emily said petulantly. "I am _so_ mad at you right now!"

"What?" Penelope asked in a high pitched voice. "Why are you mad at me? What did _I_ do?"

"_You_ told me that I should wear the garter I never got to wear when my ex-fiancé dumped me two weeks before our wedding! _You_ said it was a symbol of a new beginning. You _said_ it would make me feel free!" she said accusingly.

"So…I'm guessing it didn't?" Penelope surmised.

"No!" Emily snapped. "All it did was make me feel humiliated! Because sure enough when I woke up this morning, all I was wearing was one of Hotch's t-shirt…and that _stupid_ garter hanging out for all the world to see!"

It was then that Penelope and JJ burst into a fit of giggles.


	3. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC._

_This is a gift written especially for __**destinyisms**__ and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used._

_Thank you for all of the reviews for last chapter; I hope you enjoy this one! _

_Things are about to get a bit heavy..._

* * *

Emily had shown up for work that Monday morning and headed straight to her desk. The last thing she wanted was to run into Hotch and relive the humiliation all over again, so she'd thrown herself into her paperwork in order to avoid him.

Since Christmas was so near, they'd been put on a case freeze until next Monday. They were closed on Thursday and Friday, and because a lot of the 'higher ups' had taken the week after Christmas off, they wanted to get as much paperwork as possible pushed through now. It seemed everyone had loose ends to tie up. She was thankful for that, for she was sure that as soon as either of her friends had a spare moment, the questions and ribbing were sure to ensue again.

* * *

"Did you take Prentiss home after the Christmas soiree?" Rossi asked as he walked into Hotch's office and closed the door behind himself.

Hotch looked up from the pile of papers on his desk. "Excuse me?" he asked. _Some entrance!_

"My little kitten is in her office chasing her tail because she's worried," Rossi explained. "And when I questioned her, she said she was nervous because you'd taken Prentiss home after the Christmas party. Is it true?"

"Garcia is a fountain of knowledge," Hotch said dryly, sidestepping the question.

Rossi shrugged. "If it's any consolation, it took me a while to get it out of her. But you know me…there aren't many who survive my interrogation techniques."

There was a short pause before either of them spoke again.

"Emily came home with me after the Christmas party," Hotch confirmed.

"_Emily_," Dave said knowingly…Hotch rarely referred to his agents by their first names. Rossi shook his head. "Hotch—"

The man lifted a hand to stop him from speaking. "I've already read myself the riot act a thousand times."

Dave sighed. "That's what I was afraid of," he said dryly.

Hotch gave him a questioning look.

"_Why_ did you bring her home, Hotch?" he asked.

"She wanted to talk."

"You couldn't talk in the car?" Rossi pressed.

"Dave—"

"I'm just trying to get to the root of what's going on here," Rossi said.

Hotch sighed as he sat back in his chair. "She didn't want to go home alone," he said. Dave studied his friends face, and Hotch had to admit, even as someone trained not to crack under pressure, Dave's stare was enough to make him squirm. "And neither did I," he finally admitted. "But that's all it was…talking. I wouldn't take advantage of _any_ woman who was as intoxicated as she was."

"You know…it's been over a year since Haley died," Rossi said quietly. "I think it would be OK if you wanted to move on." Though they'd been divorced, it was no secret that Hotch had loved his ex-wife and even remained faithful until she'd taken her last breath; longer, as it was evident he still loved the woman today.

"I'm not looking to move on with Emily," Hotch claimed.

Rossi nodded. "OK," he said, clearly unconvinced.

"And even if I wanted to move on, I certainly couldn't move on with _her_," he said.

He'd started to stand, but Hotch's words caused Rossi to sit back down. "Because she works for you?"

Hotch cleared his throat. "Haley really liked Emily."

Rossi nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"How could I move on with someone Haley was friends with? I mean…wouldn't that be disloyal?"

Rossi sat there for a moment before speaking; he wanted to be sure that Hotch was asking for advice and not simply thinking aloud. "_Is_ there something going on with you and Prentiss?" he asked.

Hotch slowly shook his head.

"Is there any _potential_…for you and Prentiss?" Rossi asked.

"She's intelligent," Hotch said simply.

Rossi knew it was the closest thing to an admission he was going to get; he grinned. "And a knockout."

Hotch's lips lifted in a smirk as his eyes met Dave's.

"You know," Dave said. "What I remember about Haley was how desperately she wanted you to make sure that Jack knew how to love. I think it would disloyal if you didn't do _that_."

Just like that, Hotch's mask fell back into place and the smirk was gone, but it didn't matter. Rossi knew he was listening, so he continued.

"How can you teach Jack about love, if you're not _with_ someone you love? I'm not insinuating that you're in love with Prentiss, but if there's potential…" Rossi let his sentence trail off as he stood and gave Hotch's shoulder a single pat. "Just something to think about."

* * *

Rossi's insights had gotten the wheels turning in Hotch's head. It was nothing he'd never considered before, but his friend had managed to bring it to the forefront of his mind. He'd spent the last few days contemplating, and there was one thing he'd definitely decided upon: he wasn't in the market for casual dating. He'd _never_ be in the market for casual dating. It was nothing that, at this point in time, he'd be able to manage with his job. And even if he could, it wasn't anything that he was _good_ at. He knew himself; he'd sit down at the dinner table and have her profiled within ten minutes, he'd have a list of flaws a mile long, then he'd find a way to duck out.

When he'd spent the night with Emily, he'd learned more about her in the few short hours before she'd fallen asleep than he had in the years since she'd come to work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit; it had surprised him to know that there were more insecurities there than he'd originally thought, but the real kicker had been when she'd told him that what she really wanted was someone to take care of her. She presented herself to be so independent, and he knew she was to a degree, but like everyone else, she was seeking companionship.

There had always been an attraction bubbling just beneath the surface—at least on his end, and he was going to have to spend some more time exploring his feelings to know for sure whether or not this was something he was going to pursue.

He sighed as he stood to leave. It was six o'clock, and everyone else had already taken off for an early start to their four day weekend.

* * *

"It's fine, Mother," Emily insisted, her work cell tucked between her shoulder and chin as she straightened the files on her desk. She still didn't' know how her mother had gotten the number, but the ambassador had her ways. "If someone had surprised me with a cruise for Christmas, I'd have no problem taking advantage of it." There was a short pause on her end as her mother said goodbye; it was nothing if not all about business. "Goodbye," Emily said as she hung up the phone. The office had closed an hour ago, and she was the last one on the floor. With a sigh, she put her phone down. The sound of a throat clearing from behind startled her. She jumped up out of her chair and turned around. "Hotch," she said breathlessly, her hand flying to her throat. "You jumped me. I thought everyone was gone."

"So did I," he told her. "What are you still doing here?"

"I just finished the last of my paperwork," she explained, turning back to her desk to straighten up the already tidy pile of papers. "I'm heading out now."

"I'll walk you out," he said.

"No you…you really don't have to do that," she said tensely. She hated that she'd put herself in this predicament.

"You can't look me in the face?' Hotch asked softly.

"No," she admitted.

"Emily—"

She finally lifted her eyes to his. "It's Prentiss," she reminded him. "We're at work, and…_I'm_ Prentiss."

"OK," Hotch agreed.

Emily immediately felt like a jerk; she wished she could take the words back. "Look, this is really uncomfortable for me. I've never been in this situation before, and I'm not quite sure how to handle it, so…until I figure it out…"

"Prentiss, nothing happened," Hotch reminded her.

Emily shook her head. "That's not true," she said quietly. "I went home with you. Whether we did anything or not, Hotch, _I_ went home with you. And trust me…_that_ was something_._"


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.**

**This is a gift written especially for **_**destinyisms**_** and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter! - Angie**

* * *

_She lay there with her head on the pillow, her cheek resting on her hand as she looked at him, her chocolate brown eyes surrounded by thick, dark lashes. "Remember yesterday…on the jet? When everyone was talking about their best Christmas Memory?"_

_Hotch nodded, studying her alabaster skin; he'd noticed before how striking she was, but this was the first time she'd ever appeared vulnerable to him._

"_Morgan told us about the year he and his sisters woke up, and there were brand new bikes under the tree for each one of them; Penelope reminisced about the year when her two older brothers were away at college and had sworn up and down they wouldn't be home for the holiday, but showed up at like…five in the morning."_

_He nodded again._

_She swallowed past the lump of sadness in her throat. "And I realized that…if I've already had my best Christmas yet, then I have a lot of miserable Christmas' ahead of me," she divulged. She shook her head. "Because none of them stick out for me. They were all the same. My parents promised every year that they'd be home for Christmas…and they never came. It was always Lucy—my nanny—and me. And I loved her to pieces. I __**did**__. But she wasn't my parents."_

"_Em…" Hotch said feelingly, reaching for her shoulder and giving it a tender squeeze._

_She shrugged."Oh, well," she said dismissively. "I'm an adult now. I should get over it, right?" she asked with a strained laugh._

"_I'm not sure if it's something you ever __**do **__get over. I think you just sort of…move on," he said softly._

Hotch sighed as he stood at the window; the thick flakes of snow were coming down quickly, covering the yard, but he barely noticed.

He'd overheard Emily's conversation with her mother yesterday, and as was apparently tradition in their family, her parents were deserting her for the holidays. He knew what it was like; he didn't have many happy Christmas memories from his own childhood.

But Haley had changed all that for him. She'd loved the holidays and her enthusiasm had been contagious. While this was his second Christmas without her, it was still hard, but he'd make sure it was a happy one. For Jack. And if he could help it, for Emily.

Hotch strode through the living room and down the hallway to Jack's room. He peeked in and his son was playing with some action figurines. "Hey, buddy," he said.

Jack looked up. "Hi, Daddy."

Hotch grinned at his little boy. "Jack, how would you like to make someone else's Christmas wish come true?"

* * *

Emily sighed as she sunk further into the bathtub, the bubbles tickling her chin as the heat from the water enveloped her. She inhaled deeply as the scent of jasmine filled her nostrils, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her book rested on the floor beside the tub, but she decided to forgo it. She could read later in bed. For now, she just wanted to relax.

She'd only been in there for five minutes when she heard a knock on her door. Her eyes flew open and she waited; the knocking turned into a persistent banging and she stood up, quickly wiped herself off and grabbed her silk robe from the hook on the back of the door. She wrapped it around herself, tying the belt on her way to the door. She looked through the peephole and frowned as she unbolted it, then pulled it open.

"Hotch," she said in surprise.

* * *

Hotch drank in the sight before him: Emily's hair was held up in a clip, some of the strands sticking straight up, others falling down to frame her face haphazardly. She was wearing an elegant robe, lilac colored that fell all the way to her ankles; her unpainted toenails were peeking out from beneath the flowing fabric.

"Is everything OK?" she asked with urgency in her voice.

"Yes," Hotch said, pulled from his perusal. "Everything is fine. I'm here to…" He looked down at Jack and smiled, then lifted his head to Emily's. "_We're _here to take you Christmas tree shopping."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Excuse me?"

"Christmas tree shopping, Emily!" Jack exclaimed.

"Hey, Jack," she said with a smile, and then returned her attention to his father. "But…why?" she asked, still befuddled.

Hotch grinned softly at her. "Because we're going to give you the best Christmas you've ever had," he explained.

"Hotch, it's not—"

"We're not leaving here without you," he announced with determination.

She shook her head. "After recent events—"

"Emily," he said softly. "You didn't declare your undying love for me, you didn't come onto me...you were just…" He glanced down at his son. "D-R-U-N-K. You needed someone to talk to, and I happened to be there. I'm not stupid; I know anyone would have done."

She stared at him unblinkingly.

"Is she coming with us, Daddy?" Jack asked.

"Yes," Hotch answered before she could speak. He lifted his eyes to Emily's. "She's going to go get dressed right now, and then she's going to come Christmas tree shopping with us."

His words sounded so much like a command that Emily didn't think twice, just left the door open as she walked away to do what he'd told her to.

"Oh, and Emily?"

She stopped just before she stepped into the living room and turned around, her eyes meeting his.

"It's Aaron. We're not at work, and…I'm Aaron," he informed her, lips twitching.

Emily winced. "I deserved that."

* * *

Emily was surprised when they reached a truck and Hotch pulled open the door, lifting Jack into the cab and buckling him in. "What happened to your car?" she asked.

"Nothing," Hotch said with a grin. "I just thought this would be more resourceful if we're bringing a tree home."

Emily nodded and Hotch stood there for a moment as if he were waiting for something. "Oh," she said in a small voice, when she finally realized he was holding the door open for her.

After she climbed in, he closed it behind her, then walked over and got in on the drivers' side.

"Daddy, are we going to stop for hot chocolate on the way home?" Jack asked excitedly from the backseat.

"Absolutely," his father answered.

"Can I have whipped cream and cinnamon on mine?" the little boy continued.

"You sure can, buddy."

Emily sat quietly in the passenger's seat as they made their way to the lot where Hotch and Jack would get their tree, but curiosity ultimately got the best of her. There was something she'd been wondering since she'd woken up in his bed, and she finally had to speak.

"Ho—Aaron?" she asked.

"Yes?" he returned, giving her a quick glance.

"How…" She took a deep breath and tried again, trying to suppress a flush. "How did I get your t-shirt on?"


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.**

**This is a gift written especially for **_**destinyisms**_** and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter!**

"_Do you want me to take you home?" Hotch asked softly._

_Prentiss studied his face for a moment, her gaze unblinking. "Can I stay?" she returned._

_He nodded wordlessly. "Do you need something to sleep in?"_

"_A t-shirt is fine," she told him._

_He stood up and headed for his dresser, rummaging about for a moment before finding one that wouldn't hang off her. When he turned back around, he was surprised to find Emily standing beside the bed in nothing but her bra, panties and…a garter? He would have laughed if she hadn't just poured her heart out to him—and if that garter hadn't been staring back at him…taunting him. His hand was suddenly blazing with need…his fist clenching and unclenching by his side as he fought his desire to touch her. He'd never noticed how pale her skin was; her breasts were pressing against the light yellow fabric of her bra, and he could make out the pink flesh of her nipples beneath the lace. _

_He forced his eyes to look up, then stepped forward abruptly and tossed the t-shirt across his bed; it landed just in front of her on the mattress and he turned back around, waiting for her to change. It was silent for a moment, and then heard a 'whoops' followed by giggling. He turned back around and Emily was sitting on the mattress, the t-shirt a crumpled heap in her lap. She sighed as she turned her head to look at him. "I can't get it on," she said with a pout. "I'll just have to sleep in this."_

_When she started to crawl beneath the covers, Hotch sprung into action. There was no way he'd get a lick of sleep tonight if she was beside him in __**that**__. He pulled the blankets back and reached for the t-shirt, his fingertips grazing the soft skin on her leg. He suddenly hated that garter even more._

"_Sit up, Em," he coached softly._

_Emily did as she was told, then lifted her arms in the air. They were wobbling back and forth, and he had to hold them, first one, then the other, as he slid the t-shirt over her head. _

"_Thank you," she said softly, falling back against the pillows, her eyelids fluttering closed. _

_Hotch bent down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Good night, Emily," he whispered._

Hotch chuckled. "I laid it out on the bed for you," he lied smoothly. He'd tell her the truth…eventually. But he knew Emily; there was no way she was going to relax around him if she thought he'd seen her almost naked. "And then I left the room. By the time I got back, you'd already changed. I didn't see a thing."

"Oh," she said in relief. "That…that's good."

"That's not to say that I didn't want to," he informed her.

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his gaze steadily on the road. The words he'd said to her before she'd left his house that morning almost a week ago tore through her mind…_Emily, when you and I finally __**do**__, the one thing you can count on…is that you __**won't**__ have to ask me about it._

And there was no doubt in her mind that he was right.

* * *

Hotch suggested they have hot chocolate at home while decorating the tree, and Jack was quick to agree. They'd had to stop for whipped cream, and Emily had waited in the vehicle with Jack while Hotch went inside to make the purchase.

When they made it to the apartment, Emily managed to help Hotch carry in the tree. In true masculine fashion, Hotch and Jack had picked the largest tree on the lot, so it had been no small feat. Hotch had taken out everything they'd need to trim the tree before he and Jack had left the house, and after getting it to stand up straight, he started opening up the red and green totes one at a time. Jack was right behind him, peeking at the contents inside each one. Emily could tell by his reaction which one contained the ornaments. He let out an excited screech, then pulled a box out and made a beeline for the tree.

"Wait! What about the lights?" Emily asked. "Shouldn't those go on first?" There were strict guidelines for putting the tree up, and as far as Emily knew, it started with the lights, followed by garland, and _then_ the decorations. None that were homemade, of course. The tree had to look department store perfect for visitors.

Hotch looked at her and grinned as he followed his son to the tree. "Not how we do things in the Hotchner household," he informed her.

"Come help us, Emily!" Jack said animatedly.

"Yeah, Emily," Hotch said in a light tone, taking an ornament from the box at Jack's feet and holding it out towards her.

Emily hesitantly stepped forward and took the decoration, searching for the perfect spot on the tree.

"It's not rocket science, Emily," Hotch whispered after a moment, his breath tickling her ear as he stepped past her to place his own decoration on the tree.

She shivered at the contact and Jack looked up at her, frowning.

"Are you cold, Emily?" he asked.

Hotch looked at her expectantly, a smirk on his face and she could feel her cheeks heating.

"It _is_ a bit chilly in here," she lied.

* * *

The tree looked gorgeous, the homemade adornments adding so much love to the already warm atmosphere. Emily felt as though she were intruding on a private moment between Hotch and his son, like she shouldn't be here. They'd done everything they could to make her feel included, and she wondered how long before she actually felt that way.

"I need more whipped cream, Daddy!" Jack declared, holding his mug of cocoa up for his father to inspect.

Hotch nodded. "OK," he said.

Jack disappeared into the kitchen, then came sprinting back into the room with the can of whipped cream. "Can I do it myself, Daddy?" he asked, standing at the coffee table with his cup in front of him.

Hotch nodded, and Jack squeezed the tip of the can as hard as he could, but he couldn't get it to work. He handed the can to his father, who was sitting on the couch. "I can't—"

As soon as Jack opened his mouth, Hotch stuck the dispenser in and squeezed, the little boys mouth overflowing with the white cream. When Jack started giggling, little drops of the whipped cream landed on his father's shirt.

"Thanks a lot," Hotch said, the amusement evident in his voice.

Jack swallowed the whipped cream, and then jumped up and down clapping his hands. "Do Emily, Daddy!" he ordered enthusiastically.

Hotch looked at her and lifted a questioning eyebrow; she held her hands up in front of her to decline.

"Oh, no," she said shaking her head. "I'm not—"

Hotch reached across the cushion that separated them and filled her mouth before she could finish her sentence; she had no choice but to swallow the white cream.

"You missed some," Jack informed her.

"I did?" Emily said, surprised. "Where?"

"Right…" Hotch reached over and ran his middle finger across the outer corner of her lips. "Here," he said triumphantly, then stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked the whipped cream off. He locked his gaze on hers and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Only one thought crossed Emily's mind…her boss was _naughty_.


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.**

**This is a gift written especially for **_**destinyisms **_**and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter. I love reading your thoughts!**

"I should probably call a taxi," Emily said softly as she carefully moved Jack's head from her lap and lowered it to the couch as she stood. She absently leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

"Why?" Hotch asked, doing the same with his sons' legs as he made his way to his feet. Poor Jack; he wished his son was awake. He didn't get nearly enough female affection now that his mother was gone, and he would have loved it coming from Emily.

She laughed nervously. "It's late," she reminded him.

"I mean…_why_…when I can just drive you home?" he clarified.

But Emily shook her head. "I don't want to wake Jack." And she certainly didn't want to be in a vehicle alone with her boss.

"We don't have to," Hotch informed her. "There's a girl in the apartment next door who watches him for me once in a while, and I'm going to see if she can sit with him while I bring you home."

"Ok," she said with a nod, sending up a silent prayer that the girl wouldn't be available. Her hope was squashed when Hotch hung up the phone less than a minute later.

"She'll be right over."

* * *

They rode to Emily's in silence, and when Hotch pulled into her driveway, she tried to make it out of his vehicle before he could walk her to the door…if he even planned to. "Thanks for today," she said as she jumped out of the still running truck and quickly closed the door behind her.

She heard the engine stop and then a slam as Hotch closed his door and smoothly caught up with her. "You're welcome," he said softly.

When she reached her front door, she turned to face him. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because it's the polite thing to do," he said dryly.

Emily shook her head. "No—not walking me to my door. This whole…Christmas tree thing. Why did you bring me along with you? And…_why_ did you bring me home so that I could help you decorate it, and drink hot chocolate, and spend time with your son when…it's probably something I'll never get to do again?"

Hotch tilted his head to the side thoughtfully as he studied her face. "Because I thought you'd enjoy it," he said softly.

She sighed. "I _did _enjoy it," she told him. "That's the problem. Next year…when it's time to put up my tree…I'm going to remember _this. _I'm going to remember spending a fantastic day with you and Jack and…" Emily winced. "Now I've said too much," she whispered.

"I think you've said just enough," Hotch disagreed.

"_Why_?" she pressed.

"Because you need to have a good Christmas memory. And for some reason that I can't explain…I need to be the one who gives it to you," he said candidly.

"Hotch—"

He gave her a stern glare.

"Aaron," she corrected quickly. "You really didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to."

She nodded slowly, and then, before she could think twice, Emily wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She felt his arms encircle her waist and he kissed her harder as he pulled her body against his. When her lips parted, his tongue thrust forth, tangling passionately with hers. He tasted like hot chocolate and mint mixed together.

Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the cars as they zoomed by, and she knew that she should have felt colder than she did, but something about him warmed her from the inside out. She groaned in protest when he pulled away and lowered his forehead to hers, his breathing labored.

"I'm sorry," Emily whispered. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Yes, you should've," he informed her, his hands moving to grip the front of her coat. "It's about damn time one of us did. I just wish it would've been me."

Emily laughed as she looked down at his hands. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"You have this…annoying habit of leaving when things get…dicey," he told her. "I don't like it."

"Do you want to come in?" she asked, the words spilling from her mouth in a rush.

Hotch shook his head and she tried to step back, but he was still holding her jacket.

"Right," she said, embarrassed. "Of course you don't. I shouldn't have…I…" She sighed. "This is what I get for being so inexperienced with boys. I thought—"

Hotch used her coat to haul her back against him and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "First of all, I'm not a boy. I'm a man," he said calmly as he broke the chaste kiss. "I was putting the signals out there, and you were reading them perfectly. But I can't stay the night because I have to get home to Jack."

He could have left it at that and walked away, playing it safe. But Aaron Hotchner had been playing it safe his entire life, and where had it gotten him? He'd ended up divorced, and his ex-wife had lost her life because of him. He was tired of taking the safe road. Just once, he wanted to be reckless. And so came his next words. "If you want to make plans for tomorrow night—"

"I do," Emily said quickly.

Hotch chuckled. "I'm glad to hear that."

"It's Christmas Eve and you'll want to spend it with Jack, so if you call me once he's asleep—"

She stopped when Hotch began shaking his head firmly.

"No?" she asked in a small voice.

"That's not how this is going to work," he informed her.

"How…is it going to work, then?" she asked cautiously.

"I want to spend my Christmas Eve and Christmas day with Jack _and_ with you," he informed her.

Emily winced. "Ho—Aaron, I can't intrude on your holiday."

"It's not an intrusion, Emily," he said determinedly, then sighed as he loosened his grip on her jacket. "My son had a mother who constantly doted on him. It's been over a year since he lost her, and I haven't seen him smile as much as he did tonight…in a _long_ time. So I'm selfish. I want to see him smile as much tomorrow. And you know what?"

"What?" she asked softly.

"I want to see you smile, too."

Emily took a deep breath, then nodded. "What time do you want me to be there?" she asked.

Hotch grinned at her. "When I pick you up."

"I can drive," she insisted.

He shook his head. "No. I can't have that nasty habit rearing its ugly head," he teased.

Emily laughed nervously, still not sure she'd made a wise choice. "Tomorrow, then."

Hotch smiled tenderly. "Tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.**

**This is a gift written especially for**_**destinyisms**_**and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow. All of them will be used.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter. I love reading your thoughts!**

**I have to say, the response to the last chapter blew me away. Thank you so much for all of the reviews! You guys warm my heart!**

The anticipation was so immense that Emily hardly slept a wink that night. She awoke bright and early, wanting to have time to coddle herself before she spent the evening with Aaron. She'd made an appointment for a wax that morning, wanting to get in as soon as possible. Upon arrival she'd requested some 'definition' south of the border along with a trim. On impulse, she stopped at a beauty shop and had about an inch taken off her hair in order to give it more body, then gone to the mall for a new bra and panty set to wear. There was nothing like fresh lingerie to make a woman feel sexy.

When she'd gotten home, she'd taken a long, hot bubble bath, and then covered herself in her favorite scented lotion. After styling her hair in big, loose curls with her bangs pinned back, she dressed in a pair of black slacks and a red cable knit sweater in spirit of the season.

Then she waited.

* * *

His aunt Jessica had picked Jack up early that morning, so Hotch spent his time tidying the house, then headed to the supermarket to get everything they'd need for the next few days. This would be his first time trying his hand at cooking a turkey, but he was willing to give it a go. He'd done extensive research on line and had always been a whiz at following directions, but he threw a couple of frozen pizzas into the cart just in case.

He'd gotten home and taken care of his groceries, then spent the rest of the morning wrapping what remained of Jack's presents. He was anxious for his son to get home so they could go pick Emily up. The thought that he was going to be with her tonight was more anticipation than he could handle. He'd been denying the attraction for so long that he hadn't realized how much he'd wanted her until he'd finally determined that he was going to permit himself to have her.

Now all he could do was wait.

* * *

Emily sat across the table from Jack and Hotch and dipped her knife into the red frosting, then slathered the candy cane shaped sugar cookie with it. All she'd brought for clothes were pajamas for tonight and an outfit for tomorrow. She wished she'd brought a spare; she was sure she didn't paint a very alluring picture sitting there with white flour covering her sweater.

"Emily, these are Santa's favorites," Jack informed her.

"They are?" she asked, prompting the boy to continue.

He bobbed his head up and down enthusiastically. "Yep. We leaved chocolate chip cookies out last year, but he only ate one of them. But when we leaved out this kind, he ate all of them, didn't he, Daddy?"

Hotch nodded in agreement, and Emily bit back a grin. She could just see 'Hotch-Claus' standing at the coffee table eating the cookies, leaving just enough crumbs to convince his son that Santa had been there.

She swiped green frosting over the tree shaped cookie in her hand and put it on the plate with the rest of the finished ones, then picked up another. "Do you leave anything out for the reindeer?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Jack informed her. "We leave carrots out."

The little boy grinned triumphantly at Emily's nod of approval.

Hotch made a delicious homemade pasta bake for supper and after cleaning up, they headed for the living room to watch some Christmas specials that he'd DVR'd for his son. Before Emily could make her way to the couch, however, she wandered over to the fire place to study the stockings on the mantle. She couldn't help but think how bare it looked with just two of them hanging there. Jack's had a space on the front that was meant for a picture, and the one inside was of him on Santa's lap; he couldn't have been more than two years old and he wasn't looking into the camera. You could see Haley standing off to the side trying to get him to smile; instead he was reaching for her. She ran a finger over the picture and grinned down at Jack. "I love this picture of you and Santa," she told him.

He beamed back up at her, and then with an 'oh,' disappeared down the hallway. He returned excitedly a moment later with a red piece of fabric in his hand. "This is for you," he said, thrusting it at her.

Emily took the offering and unfolded it; it was a Christmas stocking, and across the white cuff at the top was her name. It looked like it had been written in black sharpie and it was clearly the little boys writing. The 'M' and the 'Y' in her name were uppercase, the rest lower.

"Jack," she said softly, touched beyond words that he'd thought enough of her to present her with such a gift. Emily had never had a Christmas stocking before; her mother had insisted that such frivolities represented greed, and one needn't appear greedy when they were trying to be altruistic. She fell to her knees before the little boy and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Do you have another nail, Daddy?" Jack asked eagerly as he hugged her back.

* * *

Jack had fought sleep for as long as he could, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa Clause. His body had finally given in to its fatigue, and Hotch had just returned to the living room after tucking his son into bed. "Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked.

Emily nodded. "Please."

He disappeared into the kitchen, and then came back with a glass of wine for each of them. Handing her one of the flutes, he sat down on the middle cushion so they were side by side, then rested his arm on the back of the couch behind her. "You've hardly said a word to me all day," he said softly, turning to face her.

"I…I'm sorry," she returned. "I'm nervous."

"We don't have to do this," he told her.

"I want to," she said quickly.

He nodded, his eyes darkening with desire. "So do I." He took the glass of wine from her hand, placing it on the coffee table along with his. He locked his gaze on hers as he lifted a hand to her to her cheek, then leaned forward to place a soft kiss on her lips. He pulled away, and then stood as he took hold of her hand. He gave it a gentle tug, and Emily made her way to her feet.

He led the way to his bedroom and pushed open the door, moving aside so she could precede him into the room. She took one step inside and froze, taking in the sight before her. There were dozens of candles placed around the room, rose petals strewn across the floor and bed; there was classical music drifting from a radio that she couldn't see. She immediately turned to Hotch. "What's all this?" she breathed.

He gave her a sexy grin, his eyes dancing. "It's called a seduction, Emily."


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: This story is a pinch hit for bouncing off the walls again in response to the Christmas Fic Exchange from CCOAC.**

**This is a gift written especially for destinyisms and the following prompts were requested: Carol of the Bells, Decorating the Christmas tree, Christmas lights, and snow.**

**This is going to be serving as a double challenge, because I used some of the food prompts from The Smut Club Forum. You'll have to read to find out what they are-I don't want to give anything away! I hope you like it!**** - Angie**

_It's called a seduction, Emily. _The words reverberated through her entire body and she swallowed nervously.

"Have you never—"

"With words," she answered quickly, then winced. "Never with…so much thought," she finished in a whisper, looking around the room.

With a grin, Aaron stepped forward and put an arm behind her legs, then scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. "Emily Prentiss," he said as his eyes fell to the flour on her chest. "You make baking sexy."

She laughed heartily as he headed for the bed, then placed her lips on the side of his neck and suckled gently. She _felt_ more than heard him growl, his obvious enjoyment pressing her on. She lifted a hand to the other side of his neck as if to pull him closer and sucked harder. He gently laid her on the mattress, and straightened, pulling his green sweater over his head.

Emily braced her upper body on her elbows, watching as his he rid himself of the piece of clothing. His abs were amazing…his six pack indicated he'd spent many hours at the gym to maintain his physique. He moved swiftly towards the bed, placing a knee on the mattres and covering her body with his. His thigh moved between her legs and he rested a hand on her cheek, smiling softly. He leaned down and licked the tip of her nose, his eyes dancing as he pulled away. "Frosting," he explained, lowering his lips to hers.

She could taste the sugary flavor as his tongue stroked hers, confident and soft. He kissed her patiently, exploring every inch of her mouth as if they had all night. When his hand reached beneath her red sweater to skim the flesh along her waist, she shivered involuntarily. It had been too long since she'd had a man's hand on her body. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she lifted her body up off the mattress, crushing it into his. She deepened the kiss, turning the slow exploration into passion. Aaron used a single fingertip to trace a line up over her stomach to the underside of her breast, teasing the flesh as it moved back and forth, never ascending to her peak.

She moved her head to the side to break the kiss. "Touch me," she rasped.

"Not yet," Aaron breathed, his body leaving hers as he moved to stand beside the bed again.

"Wha—"

"I'll be right back," he told her, disappearing into the hallway.

Emily sighed in disappointment as he walked out, and then quickly shed herself of her socks, black slacks, and her sweater. She studied the bed thoughtfully, trying to imagine a provocative pose that she could be in when he came back, but his footsteps in the hallway had her diving for the bed. She quickly rolled over onto her back and settled for just sitting up against the pillows. She bent one knee and left the other leg out straight.

He came to a halt just inside the doorway, a silver tray balanced perfectly on one palm, their freshly filled wine glasses strategically placed in the other. She immediately moved up onto her knees. "What's on the tray?" she asked curiously.

When he didn't answer, her eyes went to his face. "Ho—Aaron?" she asked.

He couldn't speak. She was simply too stunning. He'd known she was built—you could tell even when she was fully clothed. But of all the times he'd conjured her bare body in his head, it had never compared to this. His eyes travelled downward, her vivacious curves calling to him. She had the tiniest waist he'd ever seen; if he looked down, it gave way to her unbelievable hips—up, and it was her amazing chest, her peaks already thrusting impatiently against the thin fabric of her bra. And it was the only thing between them—the skimpiest lace bra he'd ever seen and their matching turquoise thongs. The color complemented her alabaster skin flawlessly, but he had a feeling they were going to look much better on his bedroom floor.

He had to remind himself to move. "Chocolate covered strawberries," he answered, walking toward her. He lowered the tray on the nightstand next to his bed, carefully placing the wine glasses beside it. He turned back to Emily and grabbed her waist, pulling her to the edge of the mattress. After a quick kiss, he lowered his head to her breast, using his tongue to tease her nipple through the fabric of her bra. She eagerly pushed her chest up and he chuckled. He nipped softly, tugging on the hardened peak, and then circling with his tongue before using his teeth to taunt her again. She groaned in delight, and he moved to the other side.

He was so intent on what he was doing that he didn't even realize she'd unbuttoned his pants until her hand encircled him. "Damn," he rasped as he pulled his mouth away from her. She squeezed him gently, then pulled her hand away long enough to push his blue jeans and boxers down over his thighs. She lifted her eyes to his, licked the palm of her hand, and gripped him again, moving her fist up and down in a slow and steady rhythm. He lifted his hands to clutch her shoulders—it had been a long time for him, too—and had to grit his teeth as she continued. "Emily," he said huskily. "Oh, _God_, Emily."

She scooted her knees back on the mattress, braced herself on her hands, then leaned down and took him into her mouth, sucking as hard as she could. He thrust his hips forward so she was forced to take more of him, and she complied willingly, moving her head up and down a few times before using only her tongue to make circles around the head of his cock.

He tangled a hand in her thick black hair…partly to help him keep his balance, but mostly so she wouldn't stop. Her tongue was doing the most _amazing_ things to him. "Emily, if you don't stop—"

He never finished his warning; Emily sealed her lips around him just in time, sucking greedily as his body found a release that was long overdue. As the warm liquid coated the inside of her mouth, Emily moaned in pleasure—he tasted so good.

When he was finished she straightened, and while his eyes were closed, she took the opportunity to study his face. She supposed she'd been too nervous to notice until now, but she'd never seen him so relaxed. His usually drawn expression was peaceful, and as his eyes opened, they were filled with desire instead of the usual solemn look that graced them. And then, just like that…the expression turned teasing.

"Want a turn?" he asked gruffly, his eyes never leaving hers as he pulled his pants and boxers off.

Emily bit her lower lip as she nodded, moving into a sitting position. He grabbed her behind the knees and pulled her forward. Taking her hand and pulling her closer he reached behind to unclasp her bra.

"Just rip it off me," she said impatiently.

He chuckled as he shook his head. "I'm going to want to see you in this again."

Emily's heart skipped a beat at the thought of them doing this again, and she felt a sudden throbbing between her legs.

After Aaron rid her of her bra, she reached for her thongs, stopping when he shook his head. "_I_ get to take those off," he informed her, reaching for the scanty waistband. He hooked a finger underneath the fabric, and she lay back on the mattress lifting her hips for him. They hit the floor soundlessly, and he covered her body with his, nipping at her shoulder before moving his way to the valley between her breasts. He kissed his way down to her belly button, and then reached for one of the glasses on the stand.

Emily's back arched up off the bed as the cool wine trickled onto her belly; she watched as he moved the glass upward, her mouth opening to catch what she could. He lifted the glass to hips lips and swallowed the last of it, then slammed it back down onto the stand as he moved his attention to her chest once again. He was thorough in lapping up the wine on her upper body, and his tongue dipped into her belly button as he moved downward. Her body shivered at the attention given to a previously unexplored part of her body, and as attentive to detail as he was, he noticed her reaction and returned to the area to circle it with his tongue, then plunge inside again to tease her.

She groaned as she dragged her heel up the back of his thigh and over his ass cheek to rest on his lower back. He reached for the nightstand again, this time grabbing one of the chocolate covered strawberries from the tray. Instead of feeding it to her as she'd expected him to, he reached between her legs. If it had been any other man, she would have demanded to know exactly what he'd planned to do with it, but it was _Hotch_; it was ingrained in her to trust him. Her hips flew up off the bed when he circled her core with the piece of fruit; it was like ice. "Oh, my _God_," she screeched.

She would have guessed that it would quench her arousal; instead it deepened it. She whimpered when he plunged two fingers inside of her, then moaned when he withdrew them. "Aaron—"

He immediately replaced them with the strawberry and she had to bite her lip to avoid screaming. This was _not_ the time to wake Jack, not when she was so close, she thought as she felt every muscle in her body stiffen. "Aaron—" she insisted.

She heard her boss chuckle. "Patience is a virtue, Emily," he teased.

"Aaron," she said between gasps. "You just…oooh," she moaned as he withdrew the chocolate covered strawberry back and pressed it inside of her once again. "Penetrated me with a strawberry," she said breathlessly, gripping the pillow as her body began to writhe wildly. "Any shred of virtue I had is long gone. _Please_," she begged.

He lifted the strawberry to his mouth. It was glistening in the candlelight, covered with the moisture from between her legs. He licked it meticulously, then took a small bite and positioned himself so he was between her thighs. He held it above her mouth, and she lifted her head off the pillow and daintily took a bite. She chewed quickly and then swallowed. "Now fuck me," she commanded.

As Aaron slid inside of her, Emily groaned. His heat was a stark contrast to the cold that he'd just taunted her with. He came to a stop when he'd pushed himself halfway inside of her, and Emily greedily lifted her hips off the mattress so she could have all of him.

"Incredible," he said gruffly, lowering his lips to hers.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay in this last chapter. I'd hoped to have it done by January 31****st****, but my plans always seem to go awry. LOL Thanks so much for all of the reviews, and for reading this one! Enjoy! - Angie**

Aaron leaned down and kissed Emily, the seal of his lips quenching the cry of desire that tore from the back of her throat as he slid inside of her…so slowly that when she couldn't possibly take it anymore, her hips bucked feverishly up off the mattress until he was buried all the way inside of her. He broke the kiss as he pulled back, then plunged forward at the same time she lifted her hips off the mattress. She cried out again, but without his mouth there to stifle the sound, it echoed off the walls.

"Sssh," he reminded her.

"I can't," she managed between gasping breaths. The feel of him inside of her, the friction as he drove back and forth was already beginning to send her over the edge. She'd tried biting her bottom lip, but almost broke the skin. Her pulse was spinning out of control now, her breaths coming in pants.

She felt him groan into her mouth as his tongue tangled with hers again in an effort to quiet her, his body sinking into hers, molding them together. He filled her so completely that Emily groaned, too, her entire body ablaze now. When he pushed inside of her, pausing to grind against her core, she dug her fingernails into his back with yearning.

* * *

It had been a long time since he'd been with anyone. And, God, he fit impeccably inside of Emily Prentiss. She was so amazingly tight, so damn hot that he was struggling not to come.

He closed his eyes and tried to distract himself…the meeting at work with Strauss earlier this week, Dave complaining about Mudgie chewing his new boots…_damn_. It wasn't working.

"Emily…" he rasped, his tempo increasing as he pounded in and out of her.

She wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into his lower back. "Ooooh, God," she moaned. Her arousal climbed until her head fell back, her eyes closing as she fought for breath. "Aaron…"

He felt her thighs trembling at his waist, and with a shout of his own, let the pleasure engulf him as Emily came with him.

* * *

Hours later, he lay there watching her sleep, her raven colored locks resting on her cheek as she breathed evenly. After a repeat performance, she'd fallen into slumber.

He slowly made his way to the edge of the mattress and stood, heading towards the hook on the back of the bedroom door for his forest green terry cloth robe. He grabbed it and pulled it on, turning around as he tied the belt at his waist just in time to see Emily's eyelids flutter open.

"What are you doing?" she muttered sleepily, sitting up. He took a moment to scrutinize her gorgeous body, the nipples on her pert breasts hardening beneath his gaze. She self consciously lifted her arms to cross them over her chest.

"Don't," he commanded; she froze. He strode towards the bed and sat down beside her, lifting his hands to the sides of her breasts. He moved his thumbs over her taut peaks as he looked down at her. "I have to put Jack's presents out," he explained. "I can't have him finding out there's no Santa because his father was distracted by a dark haired vixen."

Emily laughed, blushing appealingly all the way down to her chest. "Can I—" He leaned forward and captured one of her nipples in his mouth, causing her to gasp. "Help you put his presents out," she finished in a slightly higher pitched voice.

He lifted his head, then nodded with a soft smile. "I'd like that." XXX Emily put the last package in place, then stepped back, falling into Aaron's arms. She hadn't even known he was there.

"What do you think?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"I think it's perfect," she whispered, resting her hands on his forearms. The blinking lights had been left on, so that Santa could see, of course, and the presents had been placed perfectly around the base of the tree, the stockings hung on the fireplace now filled.

Aaron leaned down to nuzzle her neck with his nose. "Thanks for your help," he said sincerely.

Instead of answering, she turned in his arms and looked up at him. "You did it," she said softly.

"I did what?" he asked in confusion.

"You gave me a perfect Christmas," she clarified.

"I told you I would," he reminded her.

She nodded as she looked down. "Did that include sleeping with me?" she asked quietly.

He put his fingers beneath her chin and lifted it so their eyes met again. "No," he assured her. "That didn't include sleeping with you. But…incidentally, it _did_ end up being my favorite part," he told her teasingly.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully.

This was such a distinction from the confident Emily he saw in the field that he couldn't help but wonder how many other facets there were to her. He nodded firmly. "That and the smile you kept on my sons face for these past few days."

She shook her head. "That wasn't me," she told him, unwilling to take credit for Jack's cheerful demeanor.

"Yes, Emily, it _was_ you. You make my son happy. You happen to make _me_ happy, too," he informed her.

"I do?" she asked cautiously.

"You do," he confirmed, his arm dropping from her waist. His hand dipped into the waistband of her panties, and she inhaled sharply.

"I've never had a particularly memorable New Years," she confided, her head falling back as he began to stroke her center.

"You haven't?" he asked in mock surprise. Her eyes flew open to see a triumphant smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he could do to her.

She quirked a brow at him. _Two_ could play this game. Her own hand reached between the folds of his robe, pleased to discover he was already hard. At the same time she gripped his length, he thrust two fingers inside of her and her hand fell backwards as she pursed her lips to keep from groaning. She really was no match for him, she realized as he pulled his fingers back and plunged them inside of her once again. She lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck, then lifted one foot off the floor, bending at the knee, then straightening as she began to ride his fingers. "God, Em. You're so fucking hot," he told her.

She let her head fall back again with a throaty chuckle. "Nothing unforgettable has ever happened…oh!...on Valentine's Day, either," she told him.

"An entire year of firsts if you stick around," he reasoned.

She nodded as she moaned softly, her eyelids fluttering shut once again.

"Em?"

"Yeah?" she asked breathily.

"You should plan on sticking around." The arm that was wrapped around her waist tightened as he pulled her to him, the fingers on his other continuing to work her body.

Aaron Hotchner didn't know for sure what this was, only that it was the beginning…

*****THE END*****


End file.
